


what’s love got to do with it?

by punkcowboy



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Canon Temporary Character Death, Fluff, Follows Poe throughout the events of The Force Awakens, I mean, Jessika is only mentioned like once, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Mayhaps that is the case, Poe centric, Reunions, Space Gays!!, Star Wars: The Force Awakens Spoilers, Stormpilot, Temporary Character Death, duh - Freeform, falling in love?, happy pride month y’all, idk - Freeform, it’s gay, i’m not sure how to tag shit sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2020-04-05 23:55:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19051075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punkcowboy/pseuds/punkcowboy
Summary: Poe hadn’t been looking for love.He joined the Resistance because everything felt wrong. The First Order, what they were doing- taking over planets, killing innocent people by the thousands- none of it was right, and Poe wasn’t one to stand back and watch as the world went up in flames.(love, however, was an interesting, unexpected, but altogether not unwelcome, outcome)





	what’s love got to do with it?

**Author's Note:**

> yeeyee y’all.
> 
> First Star Wars fic! Love me some stormpilot, and it felt appropriate to post it today considering, well, it’s June. So. Happy Pride Month!!! Hope y’all enjoy :)

Poe hadn’t been looking for love.

He joined the Resistance because everything felt wrong. The First Order, what they were doing- taking over planets, killing innocent people by the thousands- none of it was right, and Poe wasn’t one to stand back and watch as the world went up in flames.

He joined the Resistance because his parents had taught him to always fight for what he believed in. They believed in the Resistance, and had both died for what they believed in- the chance of a brighter future; maybe not of absolute peace and sunshine and rainbows across the whole galaxy, but undoubtedly they believed that the Resistance could create something better if given the chance. And, god, did they try to help give it that chance. And so Poe did to.

He joined the Resistance to learn to fly. He’d seen his mother flying through the air, spinning circles in every type of plane she could get her hands on. Anything with a cockpit? She could learn to fly. Poe wanted to be able to do that, to have the ability to just- to just get a hold of a plane and be able to disappear into the nights sky, to get other’s to safety or fly for help or- to be anywhere in the universe and still be able to _do something good._

He joined the Resistance.

And then he fought, he flew, he met tens and hundreds and _thousands_ of people from all across the galaxy who were willing to fight too. He learned to fly every plane he saw, just like his mum, until he was the best pilot the Resistance had ever seen- the galaxy, if he was feeling particularly arrogant (or in the mood to annoy Jessika) and he was _damn_ proud of that fact.

He didn’t expect the high to last forever, of course he didn’t. He knew that what he did was dangerous, that he was staring death in the face every time he got into a cockpit to fly for the Resistance, no matter what goddamn plane it belonged to. But he was ok with that- he knew anything worth fighting for came with risks.

Getting captured was one of them.

Upon first meeting him- even while surrounded by flames, in the destruction that he had caused- on his knees and being held down by some nameless stormtroopers, Poe found Kylo Ren to be much less intimidating in person than the stories had made him out to be. The voice modulator he had going on nearly made him laugh, goddamnit, it sounded so ridiculous. A cheap imitation of evil was all Kylo Ren was. 

He didn’t underestimate him, exactly. He knew he was dangerous. But, fuck he hadn’t expected him to fuck with his _mind_ in the way he had.

All the Resistance fighters had had training against torture, against mind reading even, but this- this was something else. This was something from childhood tales, from scary stories when they were young that were meant to be just _stories_ , _myths_.

And Poe was defenceless against it. Weak.

When a stormtrooper came to collect him, to escort him god knows where, he thought he was done for. He’d fulfilled his use to the First Order, spilling the fucking Resistance secrets that he’d sworn never to reveal, and now he was going to be executed. And that was fine. It was _fine_.

Except the stormtrooper pulled him into some alcove and took off his helmet.

God, he’d forgotten- or maybe he’d never really known- that there were _people_ under those masks.

This one whispered about rescueing him, about escaping the First Order, and Poe started to hope. This man was a glimmer of hope in an overwhelming sea of despair. He was brave, of course he was, going against the First Order like this was insane and stupidly brave, and Poe was in awe of the man in front of him, to some degree. Poe wasn’t an idiot though.

 _You need a pilot_ he laughed, not fooled for one second by the “it’s the right thing to do” bullshit.

 _I need a pilot_.

And they were off.

They got a plane, and they flew away, Finn- because he was Finn now, not FN-2187, god what the hell?- whooping for joy and it was exhilarating being in the pilot’s seat again, flying top speed through the dark sky. They could go anywhere, do anything, and he was happy to do it side-by-side with Finn.

He had a job to do first.

Finn was scared, fucking terrified of being captured by the First Order, and it was really only then that Poe realised how big of a deal this was to him. The fear in his voice was palpable in their tiny ship, and it made Poe’s heart ache to hear how his voice shook even as he shouted to _turn the plane around, goddamnit_.

He wanted to listen to him, so much. He had an urge to protect, to protect this man who he’d known not even a full day. Maybe it was because he wanted to pay him back for helping him escape in the first place. Maybe Poe just had a tendency to want to look out for people asking for help. Maybe it was something else.

It didn’t matter, because right now Poe has a job to do.

And then even that didn’t matter, because they were hit and alarms started blaring and then they were spiralling _down, down, down_ , onto Jakku whether he or Finn wanted to or not.

Poe remembered the unbearable heat when they broke through the atmosphere, he remembered taking of his jacket in a vain attempt to slow down the spread of the fire through his skin, to stop sweating and get a better grip on the controls but it didn’t matter because they’d stopped working, remembered feeling completely and utterly helpless form the second time in one day. Remembered thinking about how Finn had put his trust in him to get him to safety, and he’d let him down.

They made impact, and Poe went flying only this time without a plane of any sort, but he flew for what felt like miles and miles and miles, the wind rushing past cooling his skin and finally he didn’t feel like he was on fire anymore, he was still confused and disoriented but he was flying, for real, had he grown wings or something?

And then he started to descend, and no, no wings, just Poe falling and falling and falling into the red dunes of Jakku.

 _That_ was when he’d passed out.

It could have been hours, or days, or maybe just minutes before he came to. All he knew was that when he woke up, it was dark and he was entirely alone.

He walked for hours in the silence, but found no sign of either the crash site or Finn.

Finn.

God, Poe felt like he’d been stabbed straight through the heart. He was battered and bruised from the crash, from a crash that there was no evidence of other than the effect that it had had on him because he was dirty and tired and probably burnt something awful. And now Finn was gone.

Poe had his prejudices against stormtroopers, he knew he did. He’d always imagined them as mindless drones at best, and willing applicants at worst. But hearing Finn talk- even for the short while that they’d been together, the minuscule amount of the time that they’d had to talk amongst all the chaos- it was pretty damn obvious that he hadn’t signed up for that shit. Not in the way Poe had signed up for the Resistance, willing to fight because he truly believed in what he was doing and wanted to be a part of something. No, stormtroopers were- they were forced, or something, raised from birth to be expendable foot soldiers, brainwashed into doing the First Order’s dirty work because that’s what they’d been doing since they were tiny, because it was all they had every known.

They were still the enemy. If the Resistance were to continue fighting against the First Order, they would have to continue fighting stormtroopers too.

But maybe, maybe, they were an enemy who could be persuaded. Maybe some of them were just scared, like Finn, and thought they had nowhere else to turn to.

Maybe the Resistance could be a place for them.

Or maybe Poe was being too optimistic. Right now, he just needed to find some sort of civilisation, and not think about Finn.

Because he was gone. Poe had failed him, and now Finn was dead. It didn’t matter how much Poe thought about him, that wouldn’t bring him back- so he pushed the thought of him to the back of his mind, even though it hurt to do so, and focused on staying alive.

-

Poe eventually found some scrapyard town and managed to commandeer a plane, get the hell of Jakku, and to the Resistance base.

He landed, and there were tears and hugs and BB-8, and stories told because _oh, shit, everyone had thought he was dead_ and _the stormtrooper had told everyone’s that he hadn’t survived the crash_ and _wait, what, stormtrooper?_

And then there was _Finn_ , running across the landing strip towards him and of course, of fucking corse he ran up to him too, and of all the hugs he’d been given in the last five minutes this was the one that had him nearly join in on the tear shedding, because _fuck_ Finn was alive and he was happy to see him, and Finn looked a little shaken up but his eyes were shining and he looked _good_ and _alive_ and-

_hey, is that my jacket?_

Finn tried to hand it back, but no, no, it just looked _right_ on him, like he was meant to have it. And Poe was happy for him to keep it, because it kept them connected, like Finn had a part of him. And maybe that was true, maybe Finn and his big dumb grin and his wide eyes had dug out a piece of Poe’s heart that he hadn’t known even _existed_ and now he owned it, owned a piece of Poe’s very soul.

Really, Poe wasn’t even upset at the prospect. He felt like he was on top of the world.

_I need a favour._

And- as if Poe would ever, _could_ ever, turn him down.

-

After the battle, when the whole shit show had calmed down and they were left in the wreckage, Finn was admitted to the hospital. He was injured, badly, took a fucking _lightsaber_ to his back for gods sake, a scar running right from between his shoulder blades down the length of his spine. It was a wonder he was even alive.

Poe sat by his bed everyday until he woke up.

It took about a month. A month of agony, a month of _why the fuck am I so attached to this guy_ , a month of questioning his decisions and then sticking by them because this was _Finn_ , and Finn had some weird effect on him that made him never want to leave his side.

Poe was not complaining. Poe was just confused.

It didn’t matter when Finn woke up, though. Because Finn was confused too, and scared and his eyes filled with pain and utter panic and it was heartbreaking, but then he turned his head and saw Poe and deflated instantly, so Poe knew he wasn’t the only one who felt _something_.

 _You look like shit_ , Finn croaked out, but he grappled for Poe’s hand as he said it and Poe laughed, loud and joyful and, yep, this was love or something like it, and he didn’t mind at all.

Of all the reasons he’d joined the Resistance- love wasn’t, had never been, one of them. Honour, respect, a sense of duty- sure. Never was he propelled by the idea of finding a partner, because love had never been a priority. His whole life had been about the Resistance, he didn’t have time to search for love within all that.

But, _fuck._ Lookingat Finn’s dopey smile, seeing their hands intertwined, feeling the weight and heat and grip of Finn’s hand in his- he was so fucking grateful that he’d found it.

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t think any warnings apply, but if there’s any trigger warnings you think I need to mention I’d be happy to do so.
> 
> I hope it didn’t seem too rushed? I wrote it in like a day but I’ve read over it a bunch so I’m hoping it’s all good
> 
> As always, any feedback is much appreciated! Thanks for reading xo


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